Immediate backup? There wasn't really such a thing as immediate, was there? Did he really mean immediate, or as soon as possible?

This was Slate, of course he meant immediate in the most literal way possible. First, immediate backup, then the police. Too bad they didn't have anyone else on the X-men available to just show up in the jet. Katrina wracked her brain for ideas, then settled on one, or got stuck really.

Sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of rye,

A cloud darkened the sky above Slate, the young and terrified girl, and the unsavory man.

Four and twenty thousand blackbirds descend from the sky.

With the ravens swooping down, providing a shield for Slate and some small amount of pecking for everyone else in his vicinity, immediate backup was achieved.

Now, to rally the police; the little illusionist stepped out from behind her wall, visible now to the world, or rather the computer, and pointed towards where Slate had gone.

“She's innocent, the real culprit went that way!”

I need a description of him, quick, or they're going to think it was you.

...Going to think it was him. Yes. Yes, Slate was already encountering that. The man's profuse monologue as he swatted blackbirds from his face was not child appropriate. In fact, it made Slate wonder, idly, just who had programmed such vocabulary into the system, and whether people really spoke that way in real life.

Also: how did Katrina know what an exploding crow looked like? The orange lines traced over their feathered bodies in a brief, fragmented light before... before the illusionist's attention to detail rained down around them all. It was reminiscent of a dragon's death, really, albeit on a much smaller scale.

There were many things going on around him. He needed to focus.

He has black hair and a snake tattoo on his neck. He is the one trying to kill the other male and female in the alleyway.

This was a description she could give to the officers. Concise and highly accurate.

"Daddy, I'm sorry! Daddy--!"

"A little late for that, baby cakes," the man hissed, advancing in a shower of black feathers.

Advancing towards Slate, to be specific. That is, the one being protected by the crows. Therefore, likely their origin. Slate would have come to the same conclusion in the man's shoes.

...I am going to try running to the end of the alleyway, and taking the girl with me. Could you please create illusion doubles for us both which remain in our current locations? If you could provide muting on any protests she has for these actions, that would also be appreciated.

Katrina called out the description of the man to the police. Several of them went running.

She ran, too, to get a little closer. A sleepy crimson tentacle waved from the stretcher as she passed. She didn't have time to stop and make sure she was okay; she had to see what was going on in the alley way. It was harder when there were several walls and several police officers in the way.

Red lines streaked her crows, to match the wall behind the girl. When the bricks exploded, so did the birds. The remnants disappeared when they hit the ground, for ease of keeping track of everything.

Go, now! Slate and the girl were invisible. In their place cowered another Slate and another girl with black feathers clinging to their sticky faces in the same places they had been sticking to the real ones.

Muting on an ability? She could make the girl feel nothing, but she couldn't do nothing at the same time she could do something. Those two types of illusions didn't seem to mesh up very well.

Crows swirled, invisible boyfriends ran towards her dragging invisible blowing-things-up-girls, see through cops swarmed the alley, and a mean looking attacker clapped his hands together which caused a really bright light to appear between his palms, and...

Slate? I'm getting really tired.

>> Slate? I'm getting really tired.

He stopped running, with a panicked girl beating ineffectually at his invisible side.

Katrina, drop all your illusions, now. The telepath ordered. I will take care of things, and be at your side shortly.

There wasn't a distinct direction to look, to locate the control room; he knew that somewhere past the illusions was a window through which Shin was observing them, but he could not see it for himself, and he would not ask Katrina to see it for him. He settled on looking vaguely ahead.

Shin, Katrina is reaching her limits for illusions. It would be unwise to push her further for the purposes of a simple tryout. In the field, our team would be moving to evacuate her and allow the police to finish with things, I feel.

This was to say: Stop the simulation.

Which was, perhaps, somewhat of an authoritative tone for a trainee to take. Not even a trainee: a trainee applicant.

Please, he amended.

As soon as the holograms faded, he would make good on his promise, and rejoin Katrina by her side. Until the illusions faded from her eyes and the silver walls of the Danger Room returned, he would have to help her see. It was something they had practiced many nights in Serbia, when Tibetan winters and mass graves encroached on the darkness of their one-bedroom apartment.

The request came in loud and clear. Shin acquiesced. Several things had become clear to him as the tryout simulation had been going on. The first was that this had not been the simulation he'd set the danger room to give them. The second was that they had not been completely forthcoming in the explanations of their individual power sets. They had lied. He would bring that up in a bit. For the moment, the Asian decided to be a good guy and help a girl in need. As the Danger Room simulation bubbled down to a close, the Asian left the god room. Down the stairs he went.

He joined them, moving towards Katrina. And Slate.

Shin frowned at them both. Not angrily. He wasn't angry. He was concerned, disappointed maybe, and empathetic. He'd been in a similar situation and pushed himself too hard.

"Take it easy," the Asian said lightly. "You overdid it. You should sit down or relax or something."

He did not, of course, have to tell the man at Katrina's side to help her. It was very obvious Slate had him beat regarding any and all concerns for Katrina's health. If Slate were to have heard the Asian's mind at that very moment, he would have been treated to an obvious noting of said concerns, as well as a moment of curiosity as to the twos relationship status. Dating, probably. Probably.

A louder thought interrupted any and all additions to that thought and its relatives. They lied to me.

Another one. It could have gotten Katrina hurt.

Out loud, he said calmly "You didn't tell me you could do all that..." Shin was smiling weakly. "If I'd known you could make illusions, I would have given you both something else."

Invisibility, she'd said, but invisibility it wasn't. He'd made the connections as he'd watched. Slate had appeared out of nowhere on another screen. He'd been on another screen moments before. And there had been other things, too. Like the fact the victims hadn't really been healed, or a suspiciously-floating phone. It wasn't so important at that moment, confronting them seriously about it, so he kept it gentle. If Katrina had pushed herself, he didn't want to push her further.

His brows furrowed. Does she need to see DocProf? He thought.